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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30112935">Baby Hotline | DreamNotFound</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawbabyhobi/pseuds/hobinotfound'>hobinotfound (strawbabyhobi)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Airplanes, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxious GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Any ARMY here?, Aren't we all though?, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Bold Texts, Clay | Dream Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Developing Relationship, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flustered GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Friends to Lovers, Frustration, Gaming, Gay Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Gay GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Gay Panic, George feels guilty for liking his best friend, How Do I Tag, I also write bts fanfiction so uhh, Idiots in Love, Inspired by Baby Hotline by Jack Stauber's Micropop, Live Streamers, Lonely Clay | Dream (Video blogging RPF), Long-Distance Relationship, Love Confessions, M/M, Minecraft, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Phone Calls &amp; Telephones, Relationship Issues, Sad and Happy, Sapnap and Bad are basically therapists for their idiot gay friends, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Conscious GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Tags Are Hard, Texting, That is constant though, Touch-Starved Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Twitch - Freeform, Worried GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), muchlove4hobi, they're both idiots</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:42:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,777</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30112935</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawbabyhobi/pseuds/hobinotfound</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆</p><p>"So, is this the part where you kiss me?"</p><p>"Dream, that's literally impossible..." </p><p>This was never supposed to happen. George wasn't supposed to fall for Dream, and Dream wasn't supposed to fall for George, but they did anyways. So what if they were three thousand miles away from each other? They could always drown their days with FaceTime and the SMP to feel even a little bit closer than they actually were... </p><p>☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Talk to Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>- 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐂𝐬, 𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐒, 𝐄𝐓𝐂𝐒. 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐂𝐘. 𝐈 𝐖𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃.</p><p>- 𝐍𝐎 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐒𝐌𝐏 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐒! 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐔𝐏!</p><p>- 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐈𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐂𝐬 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆.</p><p>- 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐁𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒! (𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄, 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎 𝐒𝐎 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄...)</p><p>- 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐒𝐌 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃, 𝐀𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐑𝐔𝐃𝐄! 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒, 𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐒, 𝐄𝐓𝐂. (𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄!)</p><p>this chapter is based on "Talk to Me" by Cavetown!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        【𝚆𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛 // 𝙾𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚛】</p><p>Poor GeorgeNotFound, always having to deal with Dream and his stupid little shenanigans and flirty jokes that really seemed to hold serious undertones, just like the interaction that was taking place live on Twitch.tv/georgenotfound at that very moment.</p><p>"C'mon, George, just say you love me!" Dream teased him, his tone a bit higher with a slightly forced desperation to it. George was visibly blushing on his stream, and he <em>knew</em> his best friend was watching him and getting an absolute kick out of the violent red that was quickly spreading across his face. He was just embarrassed from being put on the spot. <em>Damnit, Dream! People are gonna get the wrong idea! </em>"Just say those four little words, George~"</p><p>"No, I'm not saying that, Dream!" he breathed out, rolling his eyes annoyedly, focusing his attention back onto the strip mine he was mining out.</p><p>"You don't love me, Georgie?" Dream pressed on, obviously a bit eager to hear the annoyed and blushing streamer say that he loved him. Of <em>course</em> he loved him, he just didn't feel comfortable saying it when he was forced to. Love should never feel forced, and this? This would be 100% forced if he were to say those four "little" words.</p><p>George's phone buzzed a bunch of times on his desk, making him jump a little because it caught him off guard. <em>Ten new messages from Dream? </em>He swiped open his messages, confused by what the hell this idiot needed —more like wanted— from him now.</p><p>☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆</p><p>
  <em>DREAM:</em>
</p><p>
  <em>do u really not love me :(</em>
</p><p>
  <em>it's okay if u don't :(</em>
</p><p>
  <em>idk ig i just thought u were different :/</em>
</p><p>
  <em>anygays let's call after stream</em>
</p><p>
  <em>anyways* wtf</em>
</p><p>
  <em>y aren't u answering me gogyyyyyyyyyy</em>
</p><p>
  <em>is this how u treat ur loyal fans :/</em>
</p><p>
  <em>don't make me go on twitter gogy</em>
</p><p>
  <em>end ur stream soon k?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>i miss u gogy :(</em>
</p><p>
  <b>Read 11:41 P.M.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>GOGY:</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Why are you like this?</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Just say you're lonely and want a friend.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Read 11:41 P.M.</b>
</p><p>
  <em>DREAM:</em>
</p><p>
  <em>i'm not lonely i just miss u</em>
</p><p>
  <b>Read 11:42 P.M.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>GOGY:</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Haha, simp &lt;3</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>I'm about to end my stream!</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Talk to you after :)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Read 11:42 P.M.</b>
</p><p>☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆</p><p>        "I think I'm gonna end the stream here, guys," George said and then yawned, stretching his arms above his head, a nice pop sounding in his upper back. "This is your last chance to subscribe with Twitch Prime before I log off for the night!"</p><p>        After a few minutes of messing around on the SMP and running a few ads had passed, he ended his stream and texted Dream instantly, a warm smile finding its way onto his face.</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>GOGY:</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Dreeeeeeeaaaammmmmm!</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Read 11:50 P.M.</b>
</p><p>
  <em>DREAM:</em>
</p><p>
  <em>georgeeeeeeeeeeeee!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>wanna call?</em>
</p><p>
  <b>Read 11:50 P.M.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>GOGY:</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Idk, Dream...</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>I'm kinda tired rn, sorry.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Read 11:50 P.M.</b>
</p><p>
  <b></b>
  <em>DREAM:</em>
</p><p>
  <em>georgeeeee </em>
  <em>pleaseeeee</em>
</p><p>
  <em>i won't make you talk or anything</em>
</p><p>
  <em>i just wanna be with someone rn :(</em>
</p><p>
  <b>Read 11:57 P.M.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>GOGY:</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Oh, alright I guess</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Just for you, though</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Read 11:57 P.M.</b>
</p><p>☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆</p><p>𝘐𝘕𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘊𝘈𝘓𝘓...</p><p>【 ＤＲＥＡＭ 】</p><p>☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆</p><p>With no hesitation, George accepted the call, exhaustion flowing away from his body as soon as he heard his best friend speak excitedly. It was only 6 P.M. where Dream was, but for the brit, it was nearing midnight, and so what if that was "early", he was fond of feeling rested! </p><p>"Felt lonely, huh?" </p><p>"Oh, shut up! I just needed someone to talk to!" Dream scoffed on his end of the call, clearly not into the whole idea of him being a poor, lonely man who desperately needed George to make him feel a little less alone. The world was a cruel place that made many experience just how solitary they could be indeed. It was truly a roller coaster of feeling on top of the world at one moment and then being plummeted into the burning core of the earth at the next. The british man wondered if Dream ever felt so alone that he couldn't feel a single thing at all. </p><p>"It's okay if you're lonely, you know?" George said seriously, trying his best to use his tone to convey how much he genuinely meant with his half-statement-half-question. "Everyone gets lonely, even me, Dream." <em>I hope he knows I mean it.</em> "I'm always here if you need someone."</p><p>"Thanks, George. I guess I am kinda lonely."</p><p>"Anything specific that's got you like this?" </p><p>He was answered with silence, but not the good, comfortable type. It was the kind of silence where you could just <em>feel</em> the sadness through the quiet, empty response that you'd wait for but never receive. Dream never got like this, and it worried George to quite an extent, thousands of curiosities soaring through his head and only making his worries worse. Overthinking was his specialty, and while it was one he did not choose nor want, he was quite good at it, so of course he was overthinking at that moment. </p><p>"Meh, not really," Dream sighed. "It's just life; nothing I can really do." </p><p>"You can talk to me," George suggested, ruffling his hair absentmindedly as he tried to think about each and every thing that could be pressing on his friend's wellbeing. Nothing on Twitter except for Quackity falling out of his chair was really going on, so he ruled that out quickly, figuring that it must be something in his personal life. "I won't pressure you, of course." </p><p>"I'll be fine tomorrow, don't worry, George," he assured the brit. "What the fuck is that sound? Are you rustling something around— oh god, George— do that in your free time!" </p><p>"WHAT—" George gawked as he choked on the air. "DREAM! I'M NOT- I WASN'T-"</p><p>"C'mon, Georgie," Dream spoke, voice a bit raspy. <em>What is he trying to pull? </em>"I know you can't help being attracted to me."</p><p>The faint teasing laced with a bit of scratchiness sent shivers throughout George's entire body, his cheeks blooming with bright red and pink undertones. He couldn't stop replaying the words in his mind from the moment he had heard them. <em>I'm not attracted to you... </em>Being interested in a best friend that way was fundamentally wrong and borderline toxic in his mind. His mind was screaming at him, telling himself that this was wrong, how sick he was for feeling his body heat up at how amazing his name sounded coming from Dream's mouth. Best friends were <em>only</em> supposed to be friends, not some friends-to-lovers trope that fourteen year old girls would read about instead of doing their homework. <em>He'd be so uncomfortable if he knew how I felt right now... </em>The way his stomach started doing flip-flops and his heart seemed to leap out of his chest were key indicators that he was not feeling the way normal best friends should feel, but he simply denied those factors because feelings like this were not allowed.</p><p>"Whatever, Dream," he replied sourly, biting his lip down hard so he wouldn't say something he regretted later after waking up. "I'm gonna head off to bed. Early morning tomorrow. Night, Dream. Without waiting for a response, he hung up, slamming his phone down onto his plush, white comforter. <em>Thank god I'm not at my desk...</em> </p><p>Why was he feeling so warm? Sure, he didn't have air conditioning, but it was literally the middle of March, and the weather was pretty decent. <em>I wonder what the weather's like over in Florida... </em></p><p>And it finally hit him like a sack of bricks. </p><p>
  <em>George had feelings for Dream.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Sweet Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>George starts to unravel his feelings a bit more and thinks about his and Clay's friendship.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>- 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐂𝐬, 𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐒, 𝐄𝐓𝐂𝐒. 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐂𝐘. 𝐈 𝐖𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃.</p>
<p>- 𝐍𝐎 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐒𝐌𝐏 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐒! 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐔𝐏!</p>
<p>- 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐈𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐂𝐬 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆.</p>
<p>- 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐁𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒! (𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄, 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎 𝐒𝐎 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄...)</p>
<p>- 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐒𝐌 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃, 𝐀𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐑𝐔𝐃𝐄! 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒, 𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐒, 𝐄𝐓𝐂. (𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄!)</p>
<p>this chapter is based on Sweet Night by V!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>【𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 // 𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝙸'𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎】</p>
<p>Perhaps it was harsh for him to have left Dream alone when he needed someone the most, but George just couldn't help it. His stomach was churning with all of these intense emotions that made him want to scream and bang his head against a wall. <em>He wasn't supposed to feel this way. This was wrong. </em>If he could just stop all of his feelings, maybe then things would be okay. But he couldn't, so he just had to suffer through it all and hope they'd fade over time before it got too painful for him to deal with.</p>
<p>Nevertheless, George had a long, tiresome day ahead of him, one filled with exhaustion and sleepy yawns as he did everything he needed to. Did he really <em>want</em> to get out of bed? No. Did he really <em>have</em> to though? Yes. So, he stretched his hands up above his head, lower back popping as he curled his fingers outwards, stood up, and popped his back again by leaning backwards. His head was a bit cloudy from the lack of sleep he had gotten after spending the entire night pondering over his feelings for his best friend. <em>God, I'm disgusting.</em></p>
<p>"Get out of my head," he muttered, shaking his head back and forth as if it would forcibly remove all of the sick thoughts out of his head.</p>
<p>He shivered from the icy feel of the hardwood floors as he padded to the kitchen to make himself something for breakfast, though something along the lines of queasy was settling in his gut, and all of a sudden, George wasn't sure if he would be able to stomach any food at all. So, he settled for a glass of water and a couple painkillers, figuring it would help. Despite his hopeful thinking, the painkillers wouldn't be able to help the emotional pain that he mistook for something more physical. <em>I wonder if Dream would leave me meds by a little glass of water after we drink together? No, no. Stop that, George. He's your best friend.</em></p>
<p>Before he could scold himself any further, his pocket began buzzing intensely, startling him out of his wits. Placing a hand quite dramatically over his fast-paced heart, he sucked in a slow breath of relief and pulled out the device.</p>
<p>☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆</p>
<p>𝘐𝘕𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘊𝘈𝘓𝘓...</p>
<p>【 ＤＲＥＡＭ 】</p>
<p>☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆</p>
<p>        "GEORGE!" Dream shouted, startling the british man up straight in his wooden chair. "WE WERE SUPPOSED TO START STREAMING FOR THE SMP TEN MINUTES AGO! WHAT'S GOING ON?" George held his head a bit tighter, a headache brewing amidst all of the other chaos his body was forcing him through.</p>
<p>        "I don't feel well, Dream," he sighed out, disappointment weighing like a heavy weight in his chest. "I'm sorry for not letting you know..."</p>
<p>        "Oh..." the american mumbled, tone softer now. "Well, I'll let everyone know what's going on. Make sure to rest!"</p>
<p>        It wasn't that Dream sounded angry or upset— because he didn't— but George felt guilty for being the reason the new part of the SMP had to be postponed because of his inability to control his emotions, thus leading to him feeling sick. If he could just contain his feelings, everything would be fine. Nothing would feel as if he was dirty or wrong.</p>
<p>        So what was there to do? He was undeniably head over heels for his best friend, and the taller was all that lingered on his mind now.</p>
<p>
  <em>        I wish he was here... I bet he'd take care of me and cook me food because I feel bad. He's such a worrywart already.</em>
</p>
<p>        His thoughts drifted away from silly words strung together into a more visual daydream of himself laying in bed with a cold rag on top of his forehead— it had previously been warm, but it had cooled off over time. <em>That's what good friends do, George. Don't turn this into one of your sick fantasies.</em> Dream gave him a forehead kiss after setting down a glass of water and an aspirin... It was perfect—no— <em>Dream </em>was perfect. Maybe not to the world, but to George, he was.</p>
<p>        His phone buzzed on the wooden table in front of him, bringing him back to reality— the one place he wished he could escape for all eternity.</p>
<p>
  <em>DREAM:</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>make sure to hydrate</em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Read 9:37 A.M.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>GOGY:</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Don't worry :)</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>I will &lt;3</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Read 9:37 A.M.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <em>DREAM:</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>stream was postponed btw</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>tommy's mom needed him to do the dishes or something lol</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>so don't feel bad about it k?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>wish i could come take care of u</em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Read 9:38 A.M.</b>
</p>
<p>George slammed his phone face down onto the table, cringing at the thought of it cracking against it. That wasn't the biggest thought on his mind at the moment though. The biggest thought on his mind was the fact that his best friend was feeding into his horrible, toxic desires of being taken care of. Well, on a surface-level approach, it might not <em>seem</em> too atrocious, but the homosexual undertones were what transformed it from an innocent scene of best friends looking out for each other into something more complicated and raw. Something <em>godawful</em> <em>and</em> <em>immoral</em> that could be represented by three pillars.</p>
<p>The first pillar was simple thoughts of forehead kisses here and there— ones that weren't necessarily romantic, but were not entirely platonic either— as well as daydreams of friendly encounters mixed with a certain aura that suggested there was more than what meets the eye. It was deceivingly innocent, but many bad habits often begin with one disguised as "less evil" than the others. The first level was the gateway to all things regarding falling in love with your best friend.</p>
<p>The second pillar consisted of more tender kisses and cheeky scenes that played out like a movie inside of a hopeless romantic's brain on loop. These snippets appear suddenly, as if they had just appeared out of thin air with no reasoning as to why. With these thoughts came a certain aspect of guilt that could only be cured by bargaining what was considered "normal" for thoughts about your best friend. Surely, everyone had thought about kissing their best friend at some point, hadn't they? And thus, these scenes of your best friend continue to play out daily, making you climb right up to the third level.</p>
<p>The third pillar was perhaps the most unexpected and fundamentally immoral level out of all three. <em>The third level was for all of desire's sickest fantasies.</em>Desires fueled by lust and driven by simple interactions that lead the brain to come up with an ethereal depiction of two individuals blown completely out of proportion based on attraction. Yes, this truly was the final pillar, and it was only a matter of time before George reached it, though he had absolutely no way of knowing.</p>
<p>It was only a matter of time before he started realizing just how crazy he was for his best friend. For now, all he could really do was try not to move past pillar number one, which would inevitably lead to the third pillar in a matter of time. Yet he found himself craving the sweet sound of Dream's voice as he sat at his kitchen table, wanting nothing more than to call him and hear those stupid, flirtatious remarks and hilarious wheezes fill his ears like the world's finest symphony. </p>
<p>
  <em>Screw it.</em>
</p>
<p>George rolled his eyes at himself and picked up his phone once more to call the one person he wanted the most in his life. His finger hovered over the call button for a few seconds, doubts flying through his mind left and right.<em> He's gonna know. I'm so obvious... </em>It only took about a minute and a half for his finger to finally press down on the warm glass of his phone, a dialing sound playing mere seconds after, causing his anxiety to skyrocket. <em>Fuck, fuck, fuck, fu-</em></p>
<p>"George!" Dream's voice rang out through the lackluster phone speakers— George was <em>certain</em> that his voice would sound godlike in person— and made the brunette blush profusely. All the american had said was his name, but his mind was setting off the panic alarm, and his heart seemed to palpitate in his chest. "Is everything good?" </p>
<p>"Then why aren't you resting, you idiot!" </p>
<p>"I... Uhm..." he stuttered out, cursing himself for the thousandth time that day for being an idiot. Could he not have thought of <em>some</em> sort of reasoning before? "I just wanted to talk to you, I guess." It was the truth, but George still felt like he was lying, and maybe that was because, to a certain extent, he was. </p>
<p>"Anything specific, or...?" Dream chuckled,</p>
<p>"Not really." </p>
<p>"Aww, did Georgie want to hear my voice," the american teased. George felt his face heating up to an aggressive shade of pink, but there was really no denying the truth.</p>
<p>That was <em>exactly</em> why he had called.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>kudos and comments really fuel my motivation, so feel free to leave some if you enjoyed this! also just a reminder that this is crossposted on wattpad @muchlove4hobi !</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hi! i hope you enjoyed this! if you did, kudos and comments really fuel my motivation, so they're greatly appreciated and welcome!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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